


the magnitude of the modifier is only negligible near unity

by seventhe



Series: Error Propagation [2]
Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Gen, pretentious titles ahoy, what is the Zero System anyway
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-07
Updated: 2011-12-07
Packaged: 2017-10-27 01:38:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/290245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seventhe/pseuds/seventhe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just because there is a sword in front of one does not mean it should be swung. Wufei and Quatre discuss and disagree on war, emotions, and everything inbetween.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the magnitude of the modifier is only negligible near unity

**Author's Note:**

  * For [argle_fraster](https://archiveofourown.org/users/argle_fraster/gifts), [flecksofpoppy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/flecksofpoppy/gifts).



> jesus christ what is this even---
> 
> Entirely the fault of Katy (who started this) and notraffic (who prompted for Wufei).

_Error Propagation, Part II_

 _the magnitude of the modifier is only negligible near unity_

\- - -

Just because there is a sword in front of one does not mean it should be swung. Wufei knows and appreciates weapons, but weapons are tools; there is a time and a place where they become an extension of one's will, and there is a time and a place where the user fades into an extension of the weapon. It is a complicated and complex relationship, and while he's nowhere near a master, he knows enough to be wary of both weapons and tools.

Which is why when he sees Winner spending so much time with his laptop, and his Gundam, and the Zero System, Wufei begins to wonder whether Pilot 04 is practicing the swing of his sword, or whether it is the other way around.

He had his doubts about 04, but Quatre Winner has proven his competence to Wufei's satisfaction. It is the Zero System he is unsure of; it is a man-made thing yet with its own mind, and Wufei does not trust that. His Nataku earned his allegiance, and he hers; but it was not a simple thing. And the Zero System does not earn; it shows. It gives, and it takes, but there is no balance to it, no order. There is no integrity to the exchange it makes.

He confronts Winner about it, one day, when the air on Peacemillion is cold and sharp.

"Oh," says Quatre – sitting neatly, cross-legged, leaned up against Sandrock's leg, a laptop before him and a wealth of cords stretching up into the Gundam's maw – "this isn't the original Zero System. I'm trying to modify it."

"I was unaware the system needed modification," Wufei says, because Winner seemed to handle it acceptably – Yuy seems to have no problem with it. When he used it, his own experience was harsh, but he would not call it _wrong._

"It probably doesn't _need_ it," says Quatre, giving Wufei one of those long deep looks he always seems to carry with him. "But that doesn't mean it can't necessarily be improved in some areas. It's more a curiosity thing, too – there are a lot of areas Zero doesn't cover."

Wufei frowns. It seems to him that all the standards of combat are well within the Zero System's parameters, and he tells 04 so.

"Well, of course," Quatre says. "But I'm trying to modify it with an emotional parameter. Every time one of us uses it, the emotional response can be unpredictable, and it has the potential to be really damaging. But I think if it's linked with our emotions, it will improve the system, and make it easier on the pilots."

His face has lit up as he talks about his project, but Wufei shakes his head. "I must be misunderstanding. You are connecting the system to your own _feelings?_ "

"Well," Quatre says, and his face flushes bright red for a moment. "Not directly, anymore. And it's more connecting the emotional responses to the _system_ than the other way around. The pilot needs to stay in control."

"But," Wufei begins, and he takes a deep slow breath to calm the irritation fluttering up inside him. Instead, he approaches Winner and crouches down before him, looking the other pilot directly in the eye. "04. Our emotions have no place on the battlefield."

Quatre just looks back at him for one long exploratory moment, and then he says, his own voice low and breathy with his conviction, "Oh, Wufei. I entirely disagree."

Wufei shakes his head, again, disbelieving. "You are a rational and logical leader when we are all in battle together. Your directions are straightforward, both effective and efficient, and I… I respect that. Deeply." He sees a flicker of surprise in 04's eyes, and watches Winner bow his head fractionally, in respect to the compliment. "Your emotions never come into play. To change that would be a mistake."

And Quatre laughs.

"You think," he says, a smile curving his lips that has nothing to do with amusement, "you think I'm not feeling anything when I'm out there? I'm feeling _everything._ I'm angry, I'm determined – I'm _terrified_. I'm feeling the thrill of battle, and the excitement of our last win – and all of the terrible fear that we'll have to do this forever, or that I'll lose one of you, or that we won't be good enough to do what we have to. And when I'm – when I'm in charge, I'm feeling everything you four are too. When you guys succeed, it lifts me up, makes me feel like we can do anything together. When you get hit," he says, and it's a strange hiss of sympathy and empathy, " _I bleed._ "

Wufei starts, but Quatre looks back up at him and his smile goes crooked. "But it isn't," he says, a breath of sincerity, "anywhere near emotionless."

"It is, though," Wufei counters. "Your commands have nothing to do with those feelings. You analyze our situation and direct us to victory. Whatever you may think you are feeling, you manage to detach yourself from it in order to concentrate fully on the battle. You are not weakened by these things. You overcome them. I do not think you should be concerned," and he gestures at the laptop and the wires and whatever 04 is trying to adjust for with his electronic manipulations.

"Oh, _Wufei,_ " says Quatre, and it's carrying something that sounds surprisingly like pity, and Wufei stiffens.

"Emotions don't weaken us in battle," Quatre says. His eyes are pleading, but his face is firm, resolute: it's almost the voice he takes when he's directing them through space. "Emotions are – that's what _makes_ us fight – the things we think, and feel, and believe in." One hand comes up to press against his chest; the gesture is familiar to Wufei, although he does not understand 04's meaning in making it.

"Emotions are soft." Wufei shakes his head, and he settles to kneel in front of 04, resting his weight back on his heels, because he has a feeling this will take a while. "Those who submit to them are weak." He thinks of the woman Noin, allowing her emotions, her pity, her pride, to overrule her judgment: which should have been killing him; he thinks of the woman Sally, and her sympathies. He thinks of Treize.

And he thinks of _himself,_ his anger and his rage and the way he must channel past that, using that heat to forge the blade of his concentration, the sharp edge with which he and Nataku will continue this fight for justice and for peace.

"It's weaker to bury them," Quatre says softly, "than it is to face them. It takes strength, to admit what you're feeling." And he presses his palm against his chest again; his eyes look, suddenly, old.

"I am not debating philosophy," Wufei snaps. "I'm talking about the relevance of emotions in _battle._ There is no integrity, no justice, in allowing weakness to deter a warrior from his path. A true fight must be pure. It cannot be tarnished by our emotions. They are imperfect, and …messy."

"What do you think causes people to fight in the first place?" Quatre's voice is curious, rather than confrontational. "What causes war, then?"

It's an old question, one they could study for hundreds of years and never answer; but Wufei will try. "Power," he says, and he clenches a fist. "Greed. Want. Control." He takes a breath and is careful to exhale it, slowly. "Injustice."

"But aren't those all things that make you _feel_ like fighting?" Quatre asks, carefully. "They make you angry. You feel like the world is unfair, like it has no justice. You fight for those who can't fight for themselves, because you feel like they do."

"I fight for no one," Wufei says, stung.

But Quatre just glances up at Shenlong, and murmurs, "Is that so?" And Wufei thinks, fleetingly, _Nataku._

"There is," Quatre continues, slowly. "There is a glory in a pure fight. Like fencing – or sparring," he adds, with a nod to Wufei; they've both watched the other practice in the rooms on Peacemillion. "There's a glory and, well, a sort of grace to it: a perfect fight. I can understand that, Wufei, and maybe if that were the only kind of fighting left, I would agree with you. It has its beauty." His voice is wistful, and soft, and Wufei frowns. Winner is going weak again, letting his emotions get in the way of his argument. This discussion is barely worth having.

"But." And Quatre's voice is suddenly sharp like a knife-blade, and Wufei snaps his gaze back up. Quatre's eyes are hard, brilliant like diamonds, and his shoulders are stiff with conviction. This isn't the young Winner heir, the emotional soldier, the innocent, the little one: this is Pilot 04. This is their _commander._

"That isn't the kind of war we're fighting here," says 04. "This isn't a pure fight, or a perfect fight. Too many people are being hurt and killed, right here, _right now:_ too many innocent people, who only want to live their lives the way they want." His voice is a low growl and Wufei has never seen his eyes this dark. "Too many people are suffering, angry betrayed – but it isn't just about those feelings. People are feeling _hope,_ too. Hope that this can end. Fear that it won't end soon enough. Hope, and fear. Those are the kinds of emotions this war is built on. The most powerful kind."

His gaze holds Wufei's, and for a second Wufei can't breathe at the intensity – but then Quatre sighs, and he's just Quatre again, complicated and brilliant and soft-edged. "And I, for one, refuse to decouple my emotions from my fighting," he finishes. "Our emotions are part of what separates being a pilot from being a mobile doll, anyway."

Wufei is not sure whether he believes in Winner's logic, but he finds he can concede the last statement – at least partially. He nods in a brief acknowledgment. "So," he says abruptly, "what is it you wish to add to the Zero System then?" It isn't quite a change in subject – but he's no coward, to fully run from this conversation; and at least they can move away from debating the philosophies of war. "You want Zero to make emotional decisions?"

"Um," Quatre says, looking put off for the first time during this conversation, and his face flushes so dark Wufei simultaneously wants to know and _doesn't._ "Well, here's an example. How would you feel if we won a battle, but lost one of the Gundams? Not yours," he adds, hastily. "Let's say mine."

"Sandrock gives exceptional cover, and has good mobility. We would have to re-evaluate our strategy if we had to cover for you in an inferior unit, or if you had to command from behind the lines."

Quatre swallows a choking little laugh. "No, Wufei, how would you _feel_."

Wufei isn't sure what 04 is asking. "I… I have no emotional attachments to your Gundam, Winner. Are you asking whether I would feel sad for your loss?" He glances at Nataku and thinks, _perhaps,_ but he doesn't comment.

Quatre sighs. "Okay, compare these two outcomes. We win an important battle, but we lose one of the Gundams. Or we win an important battle, but we lose a Gundam… and its pilot." He takes a breath, and Wufei hears a faint shudder. "How would you feel if one of us died?" he asks, quietly.

"I would," Wufei begins, but he isn't sure how to answer. He would feel saddened, for the death of a good and honorable soldier. He would feel proud, of a comrade who had paid the ultimate price for peace. He would feel robbed of justice, for one of the five who had given up so much. He might feel angry; he might feel relieved, that the worst had finally happened. He might even feel afraid. "I would feel many things," he confesses, softly.

"Yes," Winner breathes.

There is a moment of silence, between them, in Sandrock's shadow.

"To the Zero System," Quatre says, his voice low, "the two outcomes are almost the same. They differ by the cost of only one life. A factor to be calculated, yes, but lives are lost every day, too, and Zero weighs all humans equally, even its operator. It wouldn't be a good projector for battles if it didn't." He sighs, and again, Wufei hears a pale tremor. "But to me, the two outcomes are vastly different. And that's what I'm trying to add to Zero. A measure of …emotional impact. Just another factor to consider."

Wufei doesn't have anything to say to that. A part of him still thinks it extraneous and unnecessary – aren't they soldiers? Aren't they all ready to die for this? Haven't they already? – but some part of him can acknowledge the logic in Winner's words. "How is it working?" he asks instead. "What's the status?"

Winner looks down at his hands, curled upwards in his lap, and smiles, something raw and rueful and brilliant and sad ."Well, most of the time I'm finding that the factor I'm adding is almost insignificant to the calculations," he says, and the smile he throws Wufei is steep with understanding. "It's because we're all soldiers. We already think that way. We're already more like Zero than …than we want to admit."

"And the other times?" Wufei asks. "When questions of …humanity… might be relevant?"

Quatre tips a shoulder in a half-shrug and his mouth twists. "I'm working on it," he concedes, and sighs.

Wufei stands up, and stretches; his legs are tingling. He watches as 04 smiles, a vague goodbye, and turns back to his laptop. His fingers are not flying on the keys; rather, his eyes are scanning what's on the screen, and he seems to be making very small and very particular adjustments to very specific things.

As he leaves, Wufei stops beside Quatre, and places a hand on his shoulder. 04 looks up, a question in his eyes, and Wufei nods at him in acknowledgment. He isn't entirely sure what he's acknowledging, but it seems to lift some of the shadows in Quatre's eyes, and Wufei counts that as a good thing. They all seem to need someone with a conscience, someone with a heart; someone who can lead them through the emotional landmines of this war.

And 04 _is_ the commander, when they're in battle.


End file.
